


The Five Times Harry Tried To Propose To Eggsy And The One Time He Managed It

by LittleSpider



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 5 Things, 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Eggsy as Galahad, Engagement, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Eventual Happy Ending, Harry Hart Lives, Harry as Arthur, Hartwin, Helpful Lancelot, Hurt Harry Hart, JB is a little shit, Kensington Gardens, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Merlin is a bigger shit, Protective Eggsy Unwin, Protective Harry Hart, Red String of Fate, Restaurants, Romantic Harry Hart, Roxy is the lord and savior of Harry's patience, Snarky Percival, VERY unhelpful Merlin, adorable Daisy, domestic Hartwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:54:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider/pseuds/LittleSpider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart decides that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Eggsy so buys a ring, and plans a proposal.</p><p>Or Five.</p><p>5+1 fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times Harry Tried To Propose To Eggsy And The One Time He Managed It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pfieffer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfieffer/gifts).



  
  


Harry decided he was going to propose to Eggsy one sleepy Sunday morning when he gazed across the breakfast table at the young man sleepily chewing on the triangle of lightly-done toast. His elbow propping up an unwilling head and he was greeted with a smile, a soft wrinkle of the nose and a gentle hand reaching across the table to take his.

His thumb brushing across his older skin, across the slightly-trembling hand that still shook with trauma-induced palsy, now more than a year on after the anniversary of the incident in Kentucky.

The hand that Eggsy had held tightly at his bedside as Harry had pieced together the shards of his life, coming to terms with the loss of sight in one eye, the slurring words, the slips of memory from THAT day that seemed to dance like flames at the sides of his troubled mind.

The hand that Eggsy had moulded around his spoon gently and patiently as he learned to feed himself again. Progressing to a knife and fork. Progressing to laying his own napkin across his lap and eating at a dinner table again.

The hand that Eggsy had taken and urged him to keep walking. To keep trying. To force the feet that seemed to have forgotten how to move in sequence with one another. That had ran and climbed and clambered and kicked, until soon he was shuffling, walking, jogging and eventually running again.

The hand Eggsy had slipped medication into night-after-night to keep the seizures away, the migraines at bay, the nightmares in the shadows where they belonged.

That hand, would be his.

He decided that he was going to make Eggsy his husband.

*

It taken just one visit to a jewellers shop in Kensington on Monday morning to find the perfect ring for Eggsy. It had been the same one that had caught his eye on several occasions over the last year as he walked past it to work.

The same ring sat on its velvet rest in the window of the progressive shop window which advertised it's new range of Commitment Rings, complete with back-drop of joined men's hands in bespoke pieces.

A plain Titanium band with a single red pinstripe band cutting through it in a striking statement that was both understated, yet warm with sentimentality. It's enduring presence throughout the last few months, despite changes in mode and style; a testimony to its timelessness.

Of course, tradition dictated that any bachelor intending to buy his prospective fiancée, or fiancé as the case would be, should spend at least three months salary on his purchase but on a Kingsman wage, specifically Arthur's wage, that would be both ostentatious and difficult to fulfil.

He walked into the jewellers, and after a brief discussion about the piece, purchased it in the size he believed Eggsy's finger to be and left with a small, black velvet box with his hope of a life with Eggsy tucked snugly inside.

  
  


**The Restaurant**

  
  


Harry sat stiffly, for the first time in his life in his suit. Everything was uncomfortable. His trousers seemed to be itchy on his legs, his waistcoat seemed to be cutting under his arms, his jacket felt uncomfortably big despite it being brand new and recently fitted.

And the ring that had been sat on his desk most of the morning was now sat on his trembling knee, and for the first time in a while, it was not the palsy making it shake.

It was anxiety.

By the end of the night he would either be engaged to be married, or a heartbroken bachelor.

And for some reason, he had chosen _C_ _omposé,_ A local French five star restaurant, as the scene for that.

He spent most of the morning staring at the box that sat on his desk, wondering how and when, what to do, or say, imagining several scenarios that seemed ideal at first but then proved highly impractical when he put it into action.

Fireworks seemed to have lost their charm post V-Day, and it was far too late to plan an Eiffel tower proposal at this short notice, even with his position as Arthur putting certain resources within reach.

Besides, signing off a luxury jet off for a romantic gesture was clearly an abuse of ones power and would earn him a stern talking to by the Quartermaster.

Subtlety, and grandeur rarely went hand in hand. But Eggsy deserved no less than perfection.

In the end, with the shining metal band staring at him from his desk, as he sat in Chester's former office, the eyes of the founders of Kingsmen staring down at him as he prepared to ask his lover to marry him he chose instead something that would hopefully be beautifully unpretentious, but equally as impelling.

 _C_ _omposé_. The place they had had their first date.

He had sent a dozen red roses to their home where Eggsy was still sleeping off last night's surveillance mission, with a card asking him to meet him there at 7 and now as the time was drawing closer, he was starting feel more and more awkward.

The Head Waiter on the floor, Samuel, knew Mr. Hart well.

He ran the Kingsman Tailor's in Saville Row, knew the wine list better than the Sommelier and often entertained a younger man as his guest, but tonight, Mr. Hart seemed uneasy. Perhaps it was because his guest hadn't arrived yet, or perhaps it was something more pressing.

“Mr. Hart. Is there anything I can get for you while you wait? A glass of water? A brandy?” he asked, moving towards the table.

Harry looked up and shook his head, nervously stroking down the brown-silver wave in his hair that now covered the firework scar on his temple.

“No...No...” he said softly. “Everything is fine, thank you Samuel.”

Samuel nodded, smiled and moved on.

It was getting on for 7.20 when Harry finally decided that despite being a terminal example of tardiness, keeping your lover waiting for twenty minutes was inexcusable and moved to stand to make a phone call in the foyer of the restaurant, something that even when conducted away from the dinner table was still a _faux-pas_ in this sort of establishment.

As he nodded to Samuel, gesturing to his seat where his napkin was now sat indicating his intent to return, he walked towards the door, when he noticed the Maitre'd arguing with a young man at the door.

“I am sorry sir, but it is formal dress. You simply must wear a jacket!”

“I've just told ya! My jacket got ruined on the way here! I 'ad to bin it! I'm already late!”

“...Eggsy?” Harry began, recognizing the East-London twang at once as he walked past the Maitre'd to see what was the matter.

Eggsy was stood there in his pinstripes suit trousers, absent his jacket, his hair slightly dishevelled, a smudge of dirt on his nose.

He had clearly been quite busy on the way here.

“...What seems to be the issue, Emmanuel?” Harry asked, looking to the Maitre'd coldly, his voice carrying behind to the waiting guests.

“...Sir, it is formal wear...” Emmanuel replied, looking slightly mortified.

Harry removed his jacket without a second thought and draped it around Eggsy's shoulders. It was a horribly contrasting dark grey in tweed to the navy pinstripe and buried him, covering the tips of his fingers.

“...Problem solved, wouldn't you say, Emmanuel?” he asked sharply before taking Eggsy's hand and practically marching him to their table where Samuel was now stood with Harry's usual bottle and was wondering what on earth was going on.

“...Thank you Samuel...” Harry responded, picking up his napkin and gesturing to their glasses, forgoing the tasting procedure as he already lost enough time.

Eggsy removed Harry's jacket, putting it on the back of his chair before looking at Harry as Samuel poured, and moved on, giving them chance to peruse the menu.

“So where _is_ your jacket?” Harry asked, taking his glass and having a sip.

“I got into a fight wiv someone from the estate when I was droppin' Jamal off.” he replied, folding his arms and slouching slightly. “Fuckin' pulled a knife on me and fucked up the jacket. I didn't have time to change. And then that wanker wouldn't let me in.”

“Leave 'that wanker' to me, Eggsy.” Harry replied, putting his drink down. “Where is the jacket?”

“I had to bin it. It was fucked.”

“Eggsy--”

“I told Merlin, he's sent someone to go fetch it, don't worry.” he replied, picking up the menu. “Fuckin' starvin'. Can we skip starters? I'm gonna destroy a steak.”

Harry smiled at Eggsy indulgently. He was so perfectly direct in his actions, his thinking, he wouldn't stop to consider something as silly as messing up his suit when it came to defending himself or his friends and despite getting roughed up in the estates, and being dressed down, quite literally at the door, he was still sat here, looking forwards to a meal.

_And what a meal it would be._

Harry waited for Eggsy to decide what he wanted, and then chose for himself, allowing Samuel to refresh their glasses and talked about matters at home such as JB's expanding waist-line and whether they should order more milk from the milkman to cope with Daisy's demand now she had discovered Nesquik powder.

As the meals arrived, Harry made a plan as he picked up his cutlery to delay dessert and not go with hiding it in the pudding as he had heard many did as it seemed like an unnecessary choking hazard. He would simply get up after the plates had been cleared, get down on one knee, pull the ring box from his pocket...and...

…

Pocket...?

He patted his trouser pocket....

...

JACKET!

Harry's colour paled considerably as he realized that the jacket around Eggsy's chair contained the ring box.

He had put it in the pocket as soon as he had got up and now he had no subtle way of getting it back without rifling through the pockets awkwardly and then proposing.

“...Harry, you alright?”

Harry blinked once and looked back at Eggsy who was staring at him now with a worried expression, his cutlery in his hands, paused over his steak.

“...Fine, Fine, thank you.” Harry responded, forcing a smile and yet managing to make it look painful.

“Harry, you gone dead pale and you ain't touched your food. You alright?” Eggsy said, his expression becoming grave.

“Of course...of course...I just wondered if I'd locked my desk at work is all.” Harry replied.

The excuse, just like his appetite was lacking.

Eggsy knew it instantly and put down his cutlery with a noisy clink against the plate, reaching across and holding his hand in both of his, his sleeves at risk of dragging in the crushed potatoes.

“...Harry, is it a migraine?” he asked, his green eyes becoming sharp with concern. “Ya need to go home?”

Harry shook his head and swallowed, smiling again but feeling he looked half-deranged as sweat peppered his forehead and he reached for his glass.

“Honestly. Please, don't fuss, Eggsy!” he replied. “...Just, eat. Alright?”

Eggsy frowned in an dubious way and picked up his cutlery, cutting into the medium-rare steak and watching Harry as though he were a mark.

Harry cut into his own fillet and went through the motions of eating, trying to formulate a plan in which he could get the ring back though he felt the moment had definitely passed.

By the time that the Samuel came to move the plates, looking at Harry's half-eaten plate with concern and querying if the food was alright, Harry had gone off the idea of proposing all together.

Harry smiled to him and explained he was fine and that the food, as always was decadently transcendent.

“...The dessert menu, Sirs?” Samuel offered as he stacked the plates.

“Nah.” Eggsy replied before Harry could open his mouth. “The bill please.”

Harry looked up at Eggsy, querying why he wasn't going to have his usual Eton Mess when Eggsy looked to Harry and shook his head.

“You ain't right. I'm gonna get ya home and put ya straight to bed. Don't want ya getting sick. You got a meeting wiv Jack tomorrow.”

Harry swallowed glumly and decided to accept his fate before nodding and reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

He paid the bill and left a heavy tip to apologize to Samuel for the trouble before following Eggsy sullenly from the table, being led by the hand as he left with Eggsy, by-passing the stammering Maitre'd's apologies.

Eggsy stopped him just outside, took off Harry's jacket and wrapped it around him, he felt the wayward ring box thud against his hip redundantly.

“...You gonna be alright, Harry, yeah? I'm gonna look after ya.” Eggsy promised with a reassuring smile.

Eggsy held out his arm to hail a cab as Harry stood there, thinking that proposals definitely needed more planning.

And he knew just the man to enlist to help him.

  
  


*****

“Engaged?!”

“Merlin, keep your bloody voice down!” Harry hissed as the Scotsman's eyebrows scooted up his forehead by an inch.

Merlin looked around sharply, though only he and Harry were in earshot. Arthur's office was soundproof, and fortunately had a communications jammer for anything outside of Kingsmen channels.

“...You??” Merlin began, the same tone though much more hushed. “The eternal bachelor? 'Never-In-A-Million-Years' Harry Hart?”

“Alright, thank you, Merlin. I appreciate your display of surprise. You can knock off the dramatics.”

“It's no' dramatics, Harry. I'm genuinely shocked.” Merlin continued, setting his teacup on his saucer and leaning in.

“Are you sure you're no' having me on?”

Harry pulled the ring box from his pocket. The brushed velvet had started to attract lint from its occupation of Harry's many pockets.

Merlin's jaw loosened slightly as he looked at the box, and then back at Harry who nodded grimly, reaching for his pain killers that sat in an antique pill box on his desk.

Merlin reached across the desk and took it, prizing it open and inspecting.

“...Christ on a bike...”

He tilted the box this way and that to let the ring catch the light and then closed it, taking a deep breath and pushed the box towards Harry.

“Congratulations, _Sir_.” he replied breezily. “When are y'gonna pop the question?”

“Tonight.” Harry replied quickly after swallowing his sip of tea.

“Tonight?!”

“Must you repeat everything I say? If I wanted a parrot I would have agreed to the eye patch and become a pirate.”

“...Sorry, Harry. It's just such a shock, is all.” Merlin responded, picking up his cup and regretting turning down the offer to make it 'Irish'. “So how are y'going t'do it?”

“Well, last night I attempted to propose in _Composé_ but the Maitre'd caused such a fuss at the door when Eggsy appeared without his jacket, I lent him mine and the ring was in the pocket. Honestly, Merlin, it was a total shambles.”

Merlin clucked sympathetically.

“Alright, so t'night...where are y'headed? Where's going t'be the back drop?”

“Here.” Harry responded, sipping his tea.

“Here?!”

“Merlin, once more and I will dart you and you can forget helping me out. Alright?”

“Sorry, Harry. But here? It's hardly romantic is it?”

“On the contrary.” Harry replied. “It was here where it all began. All of it.”

“By that logic, y'could propose in th'fitting room. Or th'lift, or th'shuttle. Or Holburn police station if y'want to be precise...”

“Merlin...”

“Well, surrounded by tweed, and wool, and cotton. Leather chairs and price tags, hardly romantic by m'book. When were y'gonnae do it? After the shop's shut f'the day? Or between fittin's?”

Harry repressed a smirk.

When Merlin became particularly impassioned his accent seeped thickly into his words and it was a joy to witness.

“Tonight. After the shop has closed. I am going to prepare it. Soft lamps, champagne on ice, some music, it's going to be wonderful. Just like when we were first here that evening in February...”

“Except you won't be inviting him to become a Kingsman...Y'll be invitin' him to become your Queen.”

Harry's practised reflexes were at his watch in an instant as Merlin grabbed the nearest hard object and shielded his face.

“Alright! I'll stop!”

  
  


*

  
  


**The Shop**

  
  


Harry had sent a selection box of _La Maison du Chocolate_ to the house with the note:

  
  


“ _Eggsy, meet me at that Tailors shop I told you about at Seven._ _Harry_.”

  
  


He had sent Cedric home, closed the shop up, set a bottle of champagne on ice in the kitchen area of the shop ready for when he popped the question and had put some Debussy on his I-pod which he had secreted, in its docking station, between some folds of fabric on the desks.

The soft lamp light, the beautiful rich wood shining and making the place glow, the heady sounds of _La Lune_ filling the room.

It would be perfect.

The ring was in Harry's pocket as he sat, watching the window for Eggsy just as he had what seemed to be years ago, waiting for the young man to either take a step with him into a new life, except that this time, it would be much different, and hopefully, a lot less dangerous.

He would invite Eggsy into the shop, sit with him for a while, talking about this and that, and then would move the topic onto their life together, before getting up, with the ring in his hand, and getting down on one knee and proposing.

If he accepted, then he would put the ring on his finger, pour the champagne and head home to celebrate.

If he declined, he would accept it with the dignity befitting a Kingsman, before retiring to his office for the rest of the night.

Perfect.

Eggsy was not late.

In fact, he was on time and was wearing his Jeremy Scott jacket and tracksuit bottoms as he pushed open the door and walked in, grinning.

“I ain't never met a tailor. But I know you ain't one.”

Harry's smile grew as he stood and walked towards Eggsy, falling in love again, as he did every single time he saw him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before holding both of his hands.

“...Eggsy...”

“Where's that music comin' from? That new?” Eggsy asked.

Harry shook his head.

“I just felt romantic is all...” He smiled, his eyes moving over Eggsy's soft features. “Come and sit down?”

“ Hows your 'ead?”

“It's fine darling, come on...”

He led him to the leather settees, and gestured for him to sit.

Eggsy sat down and leaned forwards as he usually did, looking around.

“Did you like the chocolates?” Harry asked, smiling as he sat back in his chair.

“Yeah. They was nice, they from that place in Piccadilly ya took me too?”

Harry nodded.

“Indeed.”

“You spoilin' me this week, Harry.” Eggsy grinned. “Maybe I should get up at the arse-crack of dawn and make ya breakfast in bed before ya escape.”

“Maybe...” he responded breezily. “Or perhaps you could do me another favour?”

“Oh yeah?” Eggsy grinned. “What kinda favour is that then?”

“Well...” Harry began, sitting forwards slightly, wondering if now was the right time. “...There is something that has been...lacking in my life...I am sure you can help me with it...”

Eggsy's features became more studious as he leaned forwards a bit more.

“...Eggsy, I love you so much.” Harry began, reaching across for his hand. “You make my life compl--”

Just then, the shop door swung open and Harry found himself standing rapidly as Percival rushed in and marched straight into Fitting Room Three.

“...uh, Good evening, Percival...?” Harry began as he turned around to face the taciturn knight.

“Harry, call in Lancelot.” he heard Percival begin grimly, as he heard him head into the weapons area. “Might need you too, Galahad.”

Harry looked sharply to Eggsy who was already on his feet and removing his jacket.

“Now, hold on a moment.” Harry began, lifting his chin, asserting his authority as Arthur. “I rather think a require an explanation, don't you?”

Percival looked to Harry from the accessories room as he loaded his gun.

“The Briscoe case has taken a sudden sharp twist.” he responded curtly as he slid the gun into his holster and reached for a lighter grenade and a fresh pen. “There's not much time, Arthur. I did send you my findings but it seems you've been...otherwise engaged.”

Harry gestured for Eggsy to stay put for a moment before heading to his office and quickly accessing the file on his desk top.

A brief glance at the migration of the Briscoe boys trackers, planted on the family of underground arms dealers all suddenly making rash and unexpected movements all over the East End showed Harry that Percival was of course right, and any local knights would be needed to take down the figureheads before the situation spun out of control.

Harry's thoughts of proposing to the love of his life here and now, dropped away quickly.

“...Harry?”

Harry looked up to see Eggsy stood in the doorway of his office, his young face half intrigued, half-concerned.

“...Get dressed, Eggsy.”

Eggsy nodded and headed into the 'offcuts room' where all Knights kept a spare suit for occasions such as this.

Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before heading to the boardroom to summon Lancelot as soon as Eggsy was available and Percival was tooled up.

“...what on earth are you doing here after hours, anyway Harry?” Percival asked, making his way to his seat, adjusting his tie with a perplexed expression.

“Stock take.”

  
  


*

  
  


“...You're going to propose to Eggsy?!” Roxy trilled excitedly as she sat in the bathroom of fitting room three, an ice pack against her shoulder, her split lip threatening to bleed again under the force of a grin.

“Yes, Roxy. I am.”

The assignment had gone beautifully.

All three of the Briscoe brothers were taken down in perfect unison at three different locations by the three knights in an operation that for something that was planned in twenty minutes went off flawlessly.

Eggsy had gone with Percival to ensure the Briscoe brothers were effectively detained at the local police station along with a stack of evidence to have most of the Met's most wanted behind bars by dawn.

Roxy, having tackled a six-foot-six bruiser to the floor before knocking him out with a nearby crowbar had managed to tweak her shoulder in the process and had returned to the shop, under Merlin's suggestion for treatment.

Despite her weakened state, her perception was spot on and she had noticed the black velvet box on the coffee table of the shop and managed to snatch it up for a peek before Harry could stop her.

Then the streams of questions in ever increasing pitch, speed and context had begun.

The only way he could get her to receive treatment had been to answer her questions as he had helped patch her up in the brightly lit 'clean up' station.

“...Harry, that's so romantic! When are you going to do it?” she asked, swinging her legs as she sat on the counter under Harry's experienced hands.

“Well, it was going to be tonight...” Harry replied, carefully inspecting her collarbone for fracture. “...here, at the shop.”

“Oh Harry, we ruined it for you.” she said softly, her eyes creasing slightly.

“No, Roxy. Work came first, as it always does. Duty before personal life. It was unprofessional of me to have switched my devices to silent.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself, Harry.” she offered. “And for what it's worth, he's going to say 'Yes'.”

Harry looked to her.

“...Do you really think so?”

“Harry.” she smiled, holding the ice pack in place and putting her hand on his arm. “I know so. He's head over heels for you.”

Harry smiled slightly and handed her her jacket.

“No fractures, but keep the ice pack on, you'll be swollen tomorrow. Well done, Lancelot.”

“Let me help.”

“Lancelot, I appreciate the offer--” Harry began, reaching for one of the tubs of Paracetamol that lined the shelf behind Roxy.

“Then you're going to let me help.” she smiled. “I know Eggsy. And if you're going to propose to my best friend, then I want to give you my input. Trust me, alright?”

Harry looked into her shining hazel coloured eyes, her full smile, her flushed cheeks and felt that he had no choice...

“...Alright.”

  
  


**In The Park**

  
  


Roxy had suggested that Harry take Eggsy on a nice walk in the Kensington gardens with JB and pop the question near the lake on the Italian Gardens at sunset.

Harry had almost choked on his tea at the suggestion.

“And why not?” Roxy asked, pinning him with an imperious look.

“...Roxanne. Did you recall that lecture I gave Eggsy about a spy being grey in a world of colour?”

“I did.” she replied.

“That would be like painting oneself red. An older man proposing to a younger man in Kensington Gardens, at sunset, with a bloody pug in tow? We'd be all over twitter in seconds!”

“Harry...” she sighed, putting her cup down. “Eggsy loves you, he loves JB. And those gardens are perhaps some of the most stunning grounds in the entire country. Besides, Merlin thinks its much better than your first two attempts.”

“So Merlin's in on this now?”

“We want you both to be happy. And for it to be such a special occasion...”

Harry looked at his cup.

Kensington Gardens were beautiful, and Eggsy would so much like for JB to be involved in some way...

“...Alright...” he relented. “...Seven PM. This evening.”

“Leave it with me, Harry.” she said, getting up and leaving her empty cup behind.

“I have just the invitation method!”

 

*

The invitation method, it transpired involved breaking into his home, attaching a note to JB's collar which again invited Eggsy to join him, with JB at Kensington Gardens at 7pm. Meeting him at the Peter Pan statue near 'The Long Water'.

Eggsy confirmed this by text calling Harry: 'A sneaky romantic git'.

It seemed Roxy had a gift for not only breaking and entering without detection, but also in tasteful romantic gestures.

Harry left the office at 5.30 that evening and caught a cab to the Gardens.

He had elected to wear his overcoat and scarf as Autumn had arrived with gusto that year and when he arrived and saw the vivid browns, oranges and golds that littered the dry pavements and the hosts of rich colours that decorated the grounds of Kensington Palace he realized why Roxy had suggested this place.

Smiling to himself, he moved into position near the statue, staring up at the bronze depiction of the youthful boy, the thick clusters of curling autumnal leaves decorating its base and considered what a beautiful photograph it would make with the juxtaposition of both young and old complimenting one another.

A never-ending, complimentary cycle.

“Report, Arthur.”

Harry's concentration was broken by the voice of Lancelot on his glasses' earpiece.

“...Roxy?” he muttered, looking left and right, his heart rate increasing out of habit as his body launched into 'mission-mode'.

“I'd prefer my call handle, if you wouldn't mind, Arthur...”

“What are you doing, Lancelot?!”

“Keeping you in the loop. I'm your five.”

Harry took a casual glance back towards the Long Water and saw Roxy sat there, reading a book casually in a beige pea-coat, sunglasses and black floppy hat.

“...Roxy, really! This is private.”

“Lancelot. Please. These channels aren't secure out here, and if you think I am leaving it to you to mess this up one more time, you're mistaken, Arthur. Eggsy deserves the very best.”

Harry could have argued but he relented as he heard the familiar 'Huff-Huff' of JB in the distance and Eggsy gently rebuking him for pulling on his lead.

“Then stop pullin' dickhead.”

“There's no time, bugger off!” Harry said hastily. “...Before he sees you!”

“I'm grey, remember, Arthur. He won't see me. Good luck.”

Harry resumed looking up at the statue as a few beads of perspiration blotted under his hairline, now very aware he was not only in public, about to propose to his boyfriend, but that his boyfriend's best friend was watching.

“Y'alright Harry.”

Harry turned around, smiling as he looked to Eggsy, pretending that he hadn't noticed him arrive.

“Ah, thank you for meeting me.” he looked down at JB who was staring up at him, his tongue caught between his teeth.

“Yeah, I thought we was gonna be late cos he had to stop at every lamp-post, didn'tcha?” he grinned down at his dog. “Where we goin'?”

“I thought we'd just enjoy a nice walk around the lake? Let JB stretch his...legs...”

JB barked up at him as though he understood the implied insult and Eggsy clicked his tongue at the dog and walked with Harry, linking arms with him as they walked.

“This is romantic Harry.” Eggsy remarked. “Third time this week, have I missed summat?”

Harry shook his head.

“Just making the most of your week off, darling.” he remarked before turning his attention to the dog. “...Does he always pull like that?”

“Yeah. It's funny, he pulls all the way 'ere, but when he's goin' home he never pulls. It's like he knows.”

“Here, give him to me, I'll show you how to hold his leash so that he doesn't pull. Mr. Pickle was a bugger for pulling on his leash.”

Eggsy smiled and handed the leash to Harry who took it firmly, kept his lower arm taut and immediately regretted it as he realized that despite JB's size, he was a remarkably robust dog with quite a bit of strength.

Eggsy cosied back up to Harry's arm.

Harry walked towards the gardens and heard Roxy in his ear.

“Taking up point near the _Edward Jenner memorial,_ your destination is clear, lovely gathering of mute swans.”

Harry twitched at the unexpected advice in his ear and Eggsy looked to him quizzically.

“...y'alright Harry?”

“Yes, darling. Just a gnat in my ear...” he remarked as JB tugged on his leash, following his nose towards the basins where several austere looking swans were parading around with a dignified waddle.

Harry found that the exact spot he had considered was free, especially as the gardens were starting to close up for the day and he could pop the question at the mouth of the Long Water, The sun was setting to his right casting a beautiful golden glow over the whole area, reflecting off of the rippling water, basking the swans in a soft light.

_It was perfect._

He would need to send Roxy several bunches of flowers and approve her use of mace on missions for this.

Harry led Eggsy towards the statue that stood in the water, its base covered in moss and its metal dark with age and turned towards Eggsy, his left hand occupied with JB's lead.

“Eggsy...” he began, crossing the leash to his right hand, leaving his left free to fumble with the velvet box in his pocket. “...You're the most important thing that has happened in my life...”

Eggsy smiled. His pale skin and beautiful green eyes seemed incandescent in this light and Harry's heart became swollen with love.

“...I adore you. Every moment I spend with you is an eternity of bliss and I want to live for--”

Suddenly Harry was jerked forwards as JB decided to commit treason, and chase after one of the swans who had taken it upon itself to paddle in the Italian Garden's water feature.

“JB!” Eggsy yelled as Harry was pulled forwards.

Harry was incapable of summoning the strength in his weaker arm to pull the lead taut and stop him as JB jumped into the water feature after the swan only to discover not only that Swans could fly, and that the water was deep and cold.

Harry followed immediately after, slipping on the slimy stone under the algae thick water and landed unceremoniously on his front in the water feature with a cascade of thick, green water.

JB paddled past and got out, shaking all over to rid himself of the water before trotting over to Eggsy, his small tail wagging for approval.

Harry sat up, soaking wet, cold and thoroughly humiliated in front of not just one, but two of his knights, a pair of mute swans, and the irate looking Grounds keeper.

“Harry...Harry, I am SO sorry...” Eggsy began, blood rushing to his cheeks as he reached forwards to grab his hand and pull him out of the water.

Harry took Eggsy's hand and stood up, water cascading down the back of his coat and back into the pond.

“...Harry, I'm sorry.”

Harry shook his head, and forced a smile as Roxy was mercifully silent through his earpiece.

“...It's quite alright, dear boy...” he replied shakily as he carefully stepped out of the pond. “...Quite alright...”

  
  


*

His coat was ruined, his suit needed TLC, and he had managed to get a stern ticking off from the grounds keeper at Kensington Palace who didn't seem to believe that a pug could have that kind of pull on him.

“Did you know that it's against the law to attack one of Her Majesties Swans?” he snarled at Harry who stood there, writing a very soggy cheque and putting it in the donation box for the upkeep of the park.

“...Funnily enough, Sir. I do.” he responded testily before squelching home with Eggsy and a very cheerful JB in tow.

But his sudden sojourn into the water had not dampened his fire to propose to Eggsy. In fact, it had made it all the more urgent.

On Thursday morning, nursing a slight sniffle with a spoonful of Sanatogen and a couple of ibuprofen for his aching head, he had the ring cleaned, polished, inspected and placed into a new box before working on a new plan of action.

He decided to by-pass Roxy's advice, go above Merlin's head, and go to someone even he feared...

Michelle Unwin.

  
  


*

  
  


“...Engaged?” she asked, her large blue eyes widened suddenly, her voice breaking and bordering on hysteria. “Engaged to be married?”

Harry was grateful that Daisy was sat on his lap with her Peppa Pig book, after all, Michelle wouldn't dare to attack him while he was holding Eggsy's little sister.

“...Yes, Mrs. Unwin. I wish to marry Eggsy.” Harry responded quickly.

He had spoken to Kings and Queens. Presidents and Prime Ministers. Freedom Fighters who moved entire countries to action and dictators who could have had his head in a heartbeat.

But Michelle Unwin scared the _shit_ out of him.

“I love him dearly and I can't imagine my life without him by my side.

I am fully aware of how you feel about me, and more so given the age difference between us, and the fact that you are obviously aware to some degree what I do...and therefore Eggsy does for a living....”

Michelle looked on the verge of tears or murder.

“...Mrs. Unwin...” he began, hoping that she wasn't going to cry, or kill him.“...Please understand that aside of yourself of course, I am the one person who will never hurt him, or make him feel anything less than like royalty, to me.”

“Can I see the ring?” Daisy asked, looking up at Harry, again demonstrating her uncanny skill of listening even when he seemed absorbed in something else entirely.

Harry smiled warmly at her and pulling the box from his pocket, handed it to her.

She fumbled the velvet box open with both hands and looked at it.

He hesitated at asking her not to touch it, but she seemed to grasp the idea herself and after staring at the ring for a good minute and a half while Michelle watched her youngest wrestle with the idea that her brother was getting married to a man; To 'Hawwy', she closed the box with a snap and looked to her mother.

“Mummy, can I be bwidesmaid?” she asked.

Michelle looked half-despairing, half-mollified by her daughter's approval of proceedings.

“I'd rather like to do this properly, Mrs. Unwin.” Harry continued as Daisy handed him the ring case back, her tiny fingers wrapped around it. “...I'd like to ask your permission, and I'd for you to be present...”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you are his mother.”

“Let me help, Hawwy.” Daisy piped up. “I want to help you and Eggsy get mawwied.”

Harry wasn't sure about that.

He knew Daisy was a bright, and precocious child, but he also knew that professionals never worked with children or animals, and seeing as JB managed to mess up his last attempt, he didn't want to tempt fate by using Eggsy's infant sister.

But Michelle folded her arms, her blue eyes grew calculating.

“...I think that's a great idea, Daiz.” she replied. “Don't you, Harry?”

Harry swallowed his pride and nodded.

“A fine idea.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Yeah Eggsy, just you me and Daisy for dinner, yeah?” Michelle prompted into her mobile. “I was gonna make Spag Bol. You know I always do too much. How does seven sound?”

Harry nodded urgently at the side of the telephone, his fingers wrapped around the box as Daisy stood, her arm wrapped around his leg gazing up at him with big blue eyes.

“...perfect babe, see you later.”

Michelle hung up and looked to Harry expectantly.

“So what's your plan then?”

Harry didn't have a plan and Michelle knew it.

Now Harry knew precisely where Eggsy got his mean streak from that seemed to come into play when he was trying to make Harry feel bad for either not emptying the waste bin in the kitchen or forgetting to throw the old milk out.

But with Michelle and Daisy's eyes now focused on him, he had to work quickly.

“...Well, I thought that perhaps I could sit in the drawing room--”

“Livin' room.” Michelle responded.

“...In the living room...” Harry corrected himself. “And begin talking to Eggsy...And then Daisy, dressed as Princess Elsa...”

“ _Queen_ Elsa.” Michelle interjected.

“...Queen Elsa, could come in and be holding the ring on a pillow...”

“Can I be Donatello instead, Hawwy?” Daisy asked.

“...Dona-...Donatello?” Harry stammered, uncertain who this new Disney princess was and why she was named after the Renaissance master.

“From Ninjie Turties?”

Harry looked uncertainly from Michelle to Daisy and Michelle hid her smile behind her hand.

“...Why not?” Harry asked, trying to hide the note of deflation in his voice.

“NINJIE TURTIES!” She cheered, running out of the room to her bedroom.

“...Donatello?” Harry asked Michelle, his eyes creasing with concern.

“He wears the purple mask. Scientist Ninja Turtle.” Michelle replied.

“I see. Quite a role model then.”

  
  


**His Mother's House**

  
  


By the time Eggsy arrived, Harry was a bundle of very stretched, very strained nerves.

Michelle had ordered him out of her kitchen, relegated him to setting the table and had become irate when he had asked for the dessert forks. She had told him off for folding the kitchen towel into decorative fans and had finally resorted to allowing him to sit and read to Daisy who was now sat in her Donatello costume, complete with purple mask and matching trainers.

The door opened and Eggsy bellowed.

“Oi oi!”

“EGGSY!” Daisy cheered, throwing the book into the air and launching herself towards the hallway.

“...Daisy!” Harry whispered.

Daisy stopped and looked back at him.

“Shhh...” Harry said, putting a finger to his lips and winking.

Daisy grinned, and imitated him before running to her big brother.

“Whoa! Donatello!” Eggsy grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek by the sounds of it. “If I'd-a known, I'd-a worn me Leonardo gear. Y'alright mum?”

“Y'alright Eggsy, go and sit down, Y'tea's nearly done.”

Harry stood, putting the book on the coffee table and waited for Eggsy to come in.

Eggsy was pretending to eat Daisy's face when he walked in and saw Harry.

“Oh! Y'alright Harry?” he grinned. “What ya doin' here?”

“Your mother invited me for dinner.”

“...Did she?” Eggsy asked, looking slightly doubtful. “That's nice. You been playin' Ninja turtles wiv Harry?” he asked his sister.

“No.” Daisy replied, playing with the zipper on Eggsy's jacket. “Because I'm Donatello, You're Leonardo...Jamal is Michelangelo and Ryan Is Raphael. We got all the ninjie turities.”

“Well Harry can be someone else.” Eggsy suggested. “...Who could Harry be?”

“...Splinter!” Daisy suggested excitedly.

“Splinter! That's a wicked idea, Daiz.” Eggsy grinned, sitting her in her booster seat at the table. “...Cos he's wise yeah?”

“Nah, cos he's old.”

Harry felt his cheeks start to burn as Eggsy tutted.

“Nah Daiz, that ain't nice t'say.”

“But undoubtedly true.” Harry responded kindly as he hovered near the table.

Eggsy smiled appreciatively at Harry, apology etched into his eyebrows as Michelle walked in with some plates. “Here you go Daiz.” she began, putting down the plastic plate that was heaped with spaghetti and bolognaise. “Eggsy...”

“Cheers mum.” he grinned and sat down.

“Can I give you a hand, Mrs. Unwin?” Harry responded.

“No, just sit down.”

Harry sat in his seat quickly, opposite Eggsy and smiled at him, taking the crumpled paper towel and placing it across his lap out of habit.

Michelle put Harry's plate in front of him and then her own.

“This is well nice, Mum. I miss your cookin'.”

Harry looked up sharply, unable to ignore the unintended mark against his own cooking.

“Not that you don't cook nice for me, Harry. It's just I miss simple meals too.”

“What you sayin' by that, Eggsy?” Michelle asked, a hurt tone to her voice. “...Just because I don't use fancy pots and stuff...”

“Mum, I dain't mean it like that.”

“So Daisy, tell me about Donatello?” Harry asked, utilizing his skills as 'Dinner-party-Peacemaker' to change the topic.

“He's really really aces. He wears purple an' he does science an' he fights wiv a big stick an' he does this on compooters...” She began to tap wildly on the table, sending splashes of bolognaise sauce everywhere.

“Careful, yeah Daiz?” Michelle urged, settling her daughters hands.

“He sounds like Merlin.” Harry smirked at Eggsy. “Minus the Bo Staff...”

Eggsy grinned twirling spaghetti around his fork.

Michelle smiled at Eggsy.

“How was your day? Busy?”

“Not really. Got the week off.” he replied, chewing a mouthful of spaghetti and swallowing it quickly. “Been chillin' at home wiv JB, but he was a right dick yesterday. Me and Harry were walkin' him in the park and we was talkin' and he just went after these swans and pulled Harry into the fountains, didn't 'e?”

Harry nodded forlornly.

Michelle smiled a little.

“Little sod ain't he?” she concurred.

Harry shrugged.

“It's quite alright. After all, I've heard Algae can do wonders against the ageing process when applied directly.”

Michelle actually chuckled.

Harry smiled and raised his eyebrows at Eggsy in surprise before continuing eating.

A few more quips during dinner and showing interest in Daisy's topics of discussion seemed to have warmed Michelle's icy demeanour by a few degrees and she was now actually looking to Harry when he was talking as opposed to staring at her plate, clutching her fork aggressively.

Daisy was becoming restless as they neared the end of their meal and her 'part' in the proposal was drawing near.

Harry had agreed with her that as soon as mummy had cleared away the plates, she was to say she was going to the toilet. And that she was going to get the ring from her bedroom where they had put it secretly in the dolls house and bring it in as soon as she heard Harry tell Eggsy he was 'beautiful'.

“Daiz? Ya need a wee?” Eggsy asked, noticing his sister was fighting.

“Not yet.” she murmured, looking at her plate and then at her mother.

Eggsy smirked and shook his head, putting it down to his sister being her usual self and carried on eating.

“Save some room for puddin' yeah?” Michelle began, taking Eggsy's plate from him, not giving him chance to finish and casting Harry a meaningful glance.

“Mum, I ain't even finished!”

“Yeah, save room for puddin'. It's Pavlova.”

“Let me help you.”

“I need a wee!” Daisy exclaimed, jumping off of her chair and running towards the hallway.

Eggsy shook his head.

“What's got into them two today?” he asked Harry, getting up and gathering the rest of the cutlery up to take to the kitchen.

“Leave those, Eggsy...come and sit down.”

“Nah. I gotta clear the table. It's my job.”

“Let me do it in a moment alright?”

“Harry, it's gonna take like two seconds, just chill yeah?”

“Eggsy, please, sit down.”

Eggsy furrowed his brow as Michelle walked back in, drying her hands on a tea towel and hovered near the welsh dresser that housed her now growing collection of Royal Doulton.

“...Eggsy...” he began, taking his hands and sitting next to him on the settee.

“Harry, your hands are freezin'.”

“Yes darling, listen...”

“That dinner was well nice, mum. Wasn't it nice, Harry?”

“Yes, Eggsy, it was beautiful, please listen--”

There was a sudden sound of scattering footsteps on laminate floor as Daisy ran in, carrying a pillow excitedly.

Suddenly, she trod on one of her loose laces, fell over, the pillow going flying and sending the ring-box skating across the floor and under the Welsh dresser.

Daisy raised her head, sobs already making their way out of her face as her little nose gushed with blood.

“Shit!” Harry exclaimed, blanching and springing to his feet as Michelle beat him to it and scooped up her daughter.

“Shh Shh, let mummy see, let mummy see!” Michelle panicked as blood rolled down her youngest's nose and lips.

Harry winced and offered his hanky to Michelle who dabbed Daisy's face with it gently.

“Mum, get 'er in the car. I'll take ya t'A and E, Harry, stay here and watch the house, yeah?” Eggsy began, pushing the pillow into Harry and making his way to the door, leading his mother and sister out.

“...Will do.”

The door slammed shut behind them as Harry looked forlornly around, wondering if he was doomed to remain a bachelor forever.

  
  


*

  
  


“I'm doomed, Merlin. Doomed.” Harry mourned, slouching in the leather armchair of the HQ drawing room in front of the roaring fire.

“Oh hush, Harry, y'melodramatic auld sod.” Merlin responded. “So you've had a run of bad luck, at least y'can say y've had the practice.”

He leaned forwards.

“So what did ye do after breaking his sisters nose?”

“Merlin!” Roxy scolded.

“I hunted down the ring, cleaned up after dinner, washed up, cleaned the kitchen and tidied the drawing room—sorry...living room.”

“Where did the ring end up?”

“Fucking Narnia. I had to use a coat hanger to get it from the back of the dresser.”

“Oh Harry...” Roxy sympathized. “How is she?”

“It's only a bruise...a very bad bruise and some broken blood vessels. I sent Michelle a bunch of Hyacinths to apologise.”

“D'they make bunches which say: ' _Sorry I broke your youngest's nose?_ ”

“Merlin, I swear to God, this teacup is going right up your ar-”

“Harry.” Roxy responded quickly.

“...and I sent Daisy a fresh Donatello costume from Smyths. Apparently, her old one is ruined with the blood. Michelle was kind enough to sign her text message with 'Michelle' as opposed to Mrs. Unwin, so she mustn't think too unkindly of me.”

Merlin was smirking into his cup.

“I'm glad you find this so amusing Merlin.” Harry hissed acidly.

“Harry, 'Mon, don't be like that. I'm just saving all these stories for m'best man's speech.”

“As if I would ask you after you've been such a toss-pot about it.”

“Now now...don't be so hasty. Y'want a Scotsman plannin' your stag do. We know how t'get y'just on the right side of pished so y'can still function the day after.”

“Well, there won't be a bloody wedding if I don't propose.”

“Harry...” Roxy began sitting forwards. “...Have you considered just asking him at home?”

“Hardly romantic.” he scoffed.

“It's your home, Harry. It's where you both go to be yourselves. Where you become Harry and Eggsy and not Galahad and Arthur.”

“Unless you two have some seriously messed up bedroom role-play going on.”

Harry drained his cup threateningly.

“I'll go stick t'kettle on...” Merlin offered, getting up.

“And bring me some Aspirin!” Harry called before sighing and rubbing the aching bridge of his nose.

Home...

Home _was_ where the heart was, and his heart was with Eggsy after all...

“...Home?” Harry asked, looking to Roxy.

“I think you should, Harry. Just have a nice meal, you and Eggsy. Bottle of wine, after dinner, pop the question and celebrate it quietly, just you and him. What could go wrong?”

“After this week, I really don't want to ask that question any more, Fate has been most creative recently in finding ways to fuck me over.”

  
  


**Home**

  
  


Eggsy was on the phone to his mother most of the afternoon, inquiring after Daisy's health as Harry prepared Eggsy's favourite meal: Steak, chips and peas.

Harry had tried to make sure that everything went right, though he feared the more he did that, the more prone to things going wrong were.

He had told Merlin to only contact him in EXTREME emergencies and that short of HQ burning down, the shop blowing up, or total global catastrophe; He was incommunicado.

Merlin agreed to do so on the premise he could be best man and he informed him the second it was over.

Merlin it seemed, was worse than a gossipy middle aged woman in a doctors surgery when it came to weddings.

“Eggsy darling...” Harry called as soon as he heard Eggsy sign off from his mother. “Can you lay the table?”

“Yeah.” Eggsy concurred.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Who? Mum or Daiz?” Eggsy asked, grabbing a handful of cutlery from the drawer and beginning to set the table.

“Both.”

“Daiz is fine, she loves her costume but she wants to see you as soon as you're free.”

“Oh...?” Harry asked, trying to sound innocent and knowing now that there was a two year old with a blood oath for a part in the wedding to be fulfilled.

“Yeah. Mum's okay. Fink it just scared her t'be honest.”

“Perhaps buckled shoes from now on.” Harry mused, serving up.

“Ninjas can't wear buckled shoes, Harry.” Eggsy teased with a grin.

“Actually, they wear a form of sock like shoe called _Jika-Tabi._ And they do not have laces...”

“Aces. Ya can get her some then.” Eggsy teased. “What we having? White or Red?”

“Whatever you fancy, Eggsy.”

Eggsy raised his eyebrows and grinned before helping himself to a bottle of Peroni from the fridge and sitting down at the table.

“It's being a right week innit?” he asked. “Fuckin' restaurant, Briscoe bruvvers, JB and them swans, Daiz's nose...Glad we stayed in tonight Harry. I need a rest!”

Harry smiled and put Eggsy's meal down in front of him before putting his own down and sitting.

“Fanks Harry...” he grinned before tucking in.

Harry smiled and looked at his own food, sliding his hand down to his trouser pocket and checking that this time, the ring was safe, and sound, and within arms reach.

His appetite wasn't up to the full plate in front of him, not at all but then again, with the weight of what lay ahead, he doubted it would be.

It was starting to become almost second nature now to have an off-the-cuff proposal, and he wondered when he was going to be able say it to the person for whom it was intended.

If he would ever be able to utter the words: ' _Marry me_ ' to Eggsy Unwin or if he was going to have to simply pull out the box, slam it on the table and point at it urgently instead to save tempting fate further.

_Actually, that wasn't a bad idea._

Eggsy cleared his plate far too quickly to be decent and Harry realized that it was crunch time.

“...Eggsy...” he began, reaching for his hand across the table.

“Yeah Harry?”

“...I love you, so very much.” he began, sweeping his thumb across his hand gently. “...You're my reason for being. My guiding star. The light of my life...”

Eggsy smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

“You're everythin' to me, Harry.”

“Last year, what happened in Kentucky, and everything that has followed has made me realize that my life was not complete until I met you. Until you came into my life and made what seemed a very well written and directed radio play into a techni-colour blockbuster...”

Eggsy grinned.

“Turn it in, Harry.” he grinned. “You're making me blush.”

“Eggsy...” he began, feeling the colour drain from his face and head towards his stomach, feeling his hands grow cold as the adrenaline response kicked in, feeling his mouth grow dry and his brain grow...fuzzy...and... _oh_...

_oh no..._

“...Harry?”

“HARRY!?”

  
  


**Bed**

 

“No, no. It's what they call a breakthrough seizure, mum. No he's gonna be fine. He's just missed his meds for a few days...Yeah, course he is. Merlin's on his way over...Fanks, yeah, I'll tell him...”

Harry felt his eyes slide open, the haze of sleep thick and gauze-like as he took a deep breath, and pain split through his skull.

“Mmnnnn...” he mumbled through exhausted lips.

“I gotta go, he's wakin' up...bye.”

He felt the soft weight of Eggsy's body sit next to him and realized he was in bed.

“...Eggsy...?”

“Shh...Shh.” Eggsy smiled reassuringly, leaning in and checking Harry's eyes. “You had a seizure, Harry.”

Harry's eyes closed bitterly.

Five days of attempting to plan perfect proposals had left him neglecting the medication that kept him relatively seizure free and had ruined his chance...

Perhaps the last chance in a while...

“It's okay...It's okay.” Eggsy soothed, stroking Harry's hair softly, knowing his left temple would be sore to the touch. “No harm done...In fact...I even managed to save your ring...”

Harry's eyes snapped open and snapped to the mockingly familiar box that Eggsy was holding up.

Fuck _._

_Fuck..._

_**FUCK**!_

“...Fuck...”

Eggsy grinned at him.

“...Been busy ain'tcha?”

“...Eggsy...I...”

Eggsy put his finger against Harry's apologetic lips.

“...Harry...Hart...” he began. “...Will you ask me to marry you?”

“Will you marry me?” Harry replied instantly.

“Yes.”

Harry launched himself up on his left hand, pushing through pain and week-long mortification to wrap his arm around Eggsy and kiss his cheek as Eggsy grinned and started laughing, kissing Harry's cheek.

“...Yes, Harry. I'll fuckin' marry ya.”

 

 


End file.
